


listless, lifeless

by lordyuuri



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Depression, Drama, Gen, Katsuki Yuuri-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 00:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordyuuri/pseuds/lordyuuri
Summary: "If someone were to walk in right now, he or she would probably believe that Yuuri Katsuki died. And honestly, that sounded good." - in which yuuri kinda-sorta exists.





	listless, lifeless

The only noise in the room was the sound of Makkachin's soft snoring.

The dog was strewn across Yuuri Katsuki's legs. Yuuri was sure that all blood circulation was effectively cut off. He kept asking Viktor to place the dog on a diet – "Yes, Makkachin's chubby cheeks are fluffy and adorable,  _however_." – but Viktor would always give a maddeningly cute smile and a charming refusal.

Which was ironic coming from the man that once barred Yuuri from eating katsudon for weeks to prepare for competitions. Quite ironic, quite funny.  _Ha._

Yuuri figured that he should make an attempt to move. His day started at six in the morning. It was currently noon, and he was still clad in his pajamas (which consisted of one of Viktor's baggy shirts and a pair of boxers). Teeth weren't brushed, hair wasn't combed. His body could go for quick wash, but his mind said otherwise. It wouldn't hurt, though, to go in the bathroom and wash his ass. Throw some clothes on – old, new, doesn't matter – and eat breakfast. Maybe call Phichit or skate a bit down at Ice Castle Hasetsu. Hell, he could do some errands: grab a new chew toy for Makkachin (since the poodle is more scatterbrained than Viktor and keeps losing all his toys); buy some groceries for Mom; get one of those chocolate mochas that Minako insists are "life-saving"; and do other stuff that proves to the world that Yuuri Katsuki  _did_ , indeed, exist. So hey there.

But honestly, he couldn't find the motivation to do anything but lay here and become one with the bed. Yuuri even lacked the motivation to find motivation. It was there, somewhere, waiting for him, but it was so elusive and so far out of his reach that Yuuri said "fuck it" and gave up. Honestly, he didn't know why – it was, once again, one of those things that he felt so clearly but couldn't put into coherent words whenever Viktor asked about it. It's not something he likes thinking about, so he pushes it into the back of his mind, locks in there, and then throws the key away.

But even then, that doesn't always work.

Yuuri sighed, a confirmation that he was still alive. If someone were to walk in here right now, he or she would probably believe that Yuuri Katsuki died. And honestly, that sounded good. No, not in a suicidal type of way. But maybe like a temporary fading from existence, away from skating, away from social pressures, away from everything, just for a few hours. Time to himself, time to convince himself of all the positives, fight the negatives, convince himself that all the  _negatives_  are true, fight the positives, and end up having this internal battle with himself until the positives come out on top. And then, then he'll come back refreshed and happy until the next major thing happens and he feels the familiar clench within his chest.

Truth be told, there had to be a better way to deal with that, but besides Viktor, that's all Yuuri has.

Speaking of Viktor, Yuuri wondered if he should call him and tell him to bring back some food for dinner tonight. The entire Katsuki family was conveniently on vacation for a few weeks, just leaving him and Viktor Nikiforov and Makkachin all behind. And granted, it wasn't bad – not bad at all, honestly. At least Viktor and Yuuri didn't have to worry about waking up Yuuri's parents in the middle of the night for a while (though Makkachin tends to scratch on the door  _right_  at the good part).

But as a result of the entire Katsuki family being on vacation, there was no way of eating his mother or sister's delicious food. And even though Yuuri Katsuki was, in no way, a bad cook (he considered himself a pretty damn good cook), today was one of those days where Yuuri knew he wouldn't be cooking (and he knew he wouldn't be asking Viktor to cook, lest another kitchen fire happens).

But what should he ask for? Ramen? Eh, does he really want that? How about some Western food? Maybe katsudon? Should it be spicy or regular? Maybe regular, since Viktor loves to sneak Makkachin bits of the pork cutlet. Yuko said it's this new place that just opened that makes the greatest katsudon out of all katsudon. "Heavenly," she said.

Heavenly katsudon. Does Yuuri really want a pork cutlet bowl blessed by God himself?

…No, not really. That should have surprised him, and the fact that it didn't was pretty concerning.

But he didn't. He didn't really want anything except Viktor, and even then those treacherous, taunting thoughts of his tried to convince Yuuri that hey, maybe you don't deserve him. But Yuuri does deserve him – he deserves a lot of things – but his heart and body and mind and everything was malfunctioning.

Makkachin finally moved. The cool air hit Yuuri's numb legs instantly. The poodle hopped off the bed and looked back at Yuuri, asking him to come along. Yuuri simply stared back, and he could've sworn that he saw that chocolate fur shift into a frown. Makkachin left the room, and now Yuuri was truly alone.

And if that was good or bad in this case, well, he'll decide later.

It was one o'clock. Another hour went by in which Yuuri Katsuki was still in bed, here but feeling like he's not here. Like yes, he is  _physically_  here on this comfortable bed, surrounded by all the pictures of him and Viktor, jet black bangs partially covering his eyes, able to hear Makkachin's paws pitter and patter;  _but he wasn't here._ And it was another one of the philosophical things about himself that Yuuri tried to decipher but he just couldn't so, once again, fuck it.

Yuuri licked his dry lips and yawned, another indicator that he was still alive. He was tired, so tired. So tired and unmotivated and confused and just floating in-between reality and whatever other plane that lies beyond reality.

A nap sounded so damn good right now.

Yuuri closed his eyes. He'll wake up when Viktor comes home.

**Author's Note:**

> back when i wrote this, my depression was kicking my ass (still is tbh, but it's gotten a bit better). this was also written back when yoi was still airing, and i found myself relating to yuuri a lot, so this... _whatever this is_ is the result of that.
> 
> i honestly don't quite know how to explain it.


End file.
